Bloodsport
by RuthieTudor
Summary: A leopard cannot change its spots. Oneshot.


_A leopard cannot change its spots._

**Saturday 4.03 AM**

Vince steps drunkenly out of a cab, slamming the door behind him and waving to a departing Leroy. He makes his way into the Nabootique, after some fumbling with keys, and up the stairs as quietly as possible.

Howard is sleeping uncomfortably on the couch in the living room. He's been waking up every couple of hours, too worried about Vince to sleep soundly. Vince's stumbling wakes him from another shallow sleep.

After a couple of low groans, Howard comes to, "Vince?"

Vince freezes, silent except for his breaths – which to him seem deafening.

Howard sits up, peeking over the back of the couch and peering at Vince in the dark, "Vince, is that you?"

Vince's voice sounds tiny in the silent apartment, "Sorry, Howard."

Howard stretches and sits up fully, "Come over here, little man."

"Okay." Vince walks as carefully as he can to the couch, plopping down just a bit too close to Howard but Howard doesn't move away.

Howard turns to look at Vince, trying to adapt as stern a look as possible, "We need to talk, Vince."

"You could do with another midnight hair cut, Howard." Vince ignores Howard's statement altogether and reaches out, grabbing at Howard's hair with drunken fingers. Despite his state, Vince still manages to give Howard goose bumps as his fingers trail down the side of Howard's face.

For a moment, Howard forgets what he had been planning to say all day. He quickly remembers though, as he gets a clear whiff of the alcohol on Vince's breath. He reaches up and grabs Vince's hand, momentarily holding it before dropping it back in his friend's lap.

"You have to stop this, Vince."

"Stop what?"

Vince is honestly confused, his head tilting slightly to the right and that genuine childlike look crossing his face.

"This!" Howard is losing his patience, "Going out all hours, getting pissed, and then coming home and waking me up so I can put you to bed."

For a moment, Vince doesn't say anything. He simply stares at Howard with that same endearing look on his face. Howard wants nothing more than to take Vince into his arms and hold him until they both fall asleep. Instead, he crosses his arms and tries to look stern.

Suddenly, Vince is angry, "This is what I do, Howard! I go to parties, I socialize, it's the only thing I know how to do!"

For a moment, there is silence. Howard refuses to back down.

"I'm sorry if you're a social piranha but some of us like to go out every once in a while. What would you have me do? Sit round here all day?!"

Vince was going off the deep end. Howard thought part of it was the alcohol but he can sense the pent up emotions.

"Maybe! What's so wrong about wanting to spend some time with your best mate?!" Howard was almost shouting now. The fight is escalating too quickly for either man to control it.

"I won't change for you, Howard! I won't do it! This is the way I am. Get used to it!"

"Vince! You're going to die if you don't stop this! This lifestyle will kill you!"

"I don't care! I don't care about anything! Not the shop, not my clothes – not even you!"

Everything falls silent after Vince's cutting remark. Howard can't seem to form any more words.

After a few minutes and in a small voice, Howard manages an equally small sentence, "I miss you, Vince."

It's still dark, but Howard thinks he can hear Vince crying. Soft sniffles and hiccups are his first clues.

Suddenly, Vince is more sober than he's been in months, "I'm sorry, Howard. I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did."

Vince looks over to Howard, confused. Howard keeps looking at his trousers.

"I shouldn't try to change you. You're perfect the way you are. You'd be miserable if you were forced to stay in all the time."

"Maybe."

Vince turns himself towards Howard, moving as close as possible without forcing Howard to scoot away. Before Howard can register what he's supposed to say next, Vince is there. Vince is everywhere.

Vince gently presses his lips to each of Howard's cheeks before chastely kissing his mouth. He then moves away, giving Howard time to process the information.

Howard can't move, or think, or speak. The only thing he knows is that he wants that to happen again. Seemingly of their own volition his arms reach out and circle Vince's waist, pulling him closer. Their kisses are longer and needier, each one a statement of all their unexpressed emotions.

Vince pulls away after a while, leaning his forehead against Howard's and smiling. His words are soft and slow.

"I missed you too."


End file.
